I Will Find You
by dreamofhope
Summary: Two years after the Second Wizarding War, Ron Hermione and Harry are starting over. Thier lives are starting to become easier, as they become accepted into thier new jobs.  But on her nineteenth birthday, Hermione is kidnapped by a group of mysterious wizards.  With only a handful of... hey.. if i say anymore, nobody's going to have to read anything! Rated T just in case. Enjoy!
1. From bad to great in half an hour

Chapter One

**From bad to great in half an hour**

Through the tiny glass window, light filtered into the tiny room. It bounced of the old battered floor, revealing the tiny floating particles of dust that inhabited the air. The lacy white curtains blew gently in the icy breeze the open window created. The petal pink walls still smelled, being recently painted

In the farthest corner of the room, ( which considered, wasn't that far) between a bookshelf and a dresser, sat an overstuffed canopy bed, so big and full of sheets, it appeared deserted. Deserted save one feature; a delicate little foot dangled precariously over the edge. Immediately the toes started to twitch. A low moaning was heard. It steadily grew more and more intense.

'Stop! Please! I'll do anything… don't hurt him! Kill me instead! PLEASE!' The voice shrieked helplessly. The foot shook violently. The moaning grew into screams.

'NO!' The sobbing figure of Hermione Granger rose rigidly above the bedcovers. Breathing heavily, Hermione rubbed her eyes, her hands cold and clammy. When she realized where she was, she clutched her chest and relaxed considerably.

_**Oh, what a horrible nightmare! **_

But now more than fully awake, she struggled to remember the content.

As she stood up to stretch, Hermione remembered something important.

'_**I'm nineteen. I'm actually nineteen! One more year, and I'll legally be able to ride a Thestral! I'm going to call Ron and Harry and Ginny, and then we can all…'**_

A dull ache formed at the pit of her stomach.

'Oh. Right.' Her face sunk like a stone

After Hermione had completed her studies at Hogwarts last year, (Of course, she had been the only one of the three friends to do this. Even Ginny, sweet, level headed Ginny didn't go back, and she was only in sixth year.) Ron decided to fulfill his dream and applied at the ministry of magic to become an Auror. He was accepted immediately, as he had helped defeat the Dark Lord alongside Harry Potter. They sent him a port key to Ireland, where he was completing his training. It wouldn't have been quite so painful to see him leave, if Harry hadn't left with him. She'd sent owl after owl, just trying to make sure they were okay. It had been four months, and still, nothing. No owl, no cockatoo, not even a stupid budgerigar! The only thing that was keeping her from going completely mad was that Ginny corresponded with her frequently and in detail. But again, this was fleeting. As it turned out, Ginny was an amazing Quidditch player, better even than Harry. The very prestigious, exclusive team, the Holyhead Harpies, had sent HER, Ginivera Molly Weasley a letter practically begging her to join the team; as captain no less!

Hermione frowned and smashed her hands into the mattress so hard, it shook the whole bed. Hermione squeezed her eyes shut tight and yelled;

"_**I'm**_ the one who went back to Hogwarts, I'm the one who studied, _**I'm**_ the one who stayed up until seven in the morning studying, and everyone _**still **_seems to be able to find a job they want except me! Ugggggh!"

After she cooled down, Hermione immediately felt guilty and selfish.

_**They were all gifted in the areas they needed for their jobs already. They deserved it. I'm just not good enough at any particular thing to get a job immediately. I shouldn't blame my only friends for my worries. I'm sure the Ministry will get around to reading my application sooner or later. I'm such a prat!**_

Four months ago, the day she completed her schooling, she filled out a job request to the Business Department office at the Ministry, and obviously, no reply had come yet. It was very fortunate that Hogwarts had recently set up an SSP: also known as the Smart Student Policy. It meant the top student in each graduating year was given funding for up to two years after schooling is completed.

The job request. Still passionate about defending, and enforcing the rights of house elves, Hermione wanted with her whole heart to work in a field where she could do that. (As for S.P.E.W., the only member had disbanded, finally seeing that her organization was doing nothing but offending the poor creatures.)

Just then, Hermione felt her arms, realized she was shaking uncontrollably, and saw she was covered in goose bumps. What the…? Oh yes, of course! Eee, for the brightest witch in their year, as Harry had once elegantly put it, she certainly wasn't doing too well now! She strode over to the window and slammed it shut. Still shivering slightly, she couldn't help but remember how warm Ron's hands had been when he last hugged her…

At this point, Hermione broke out in to an ear to ear grin. She finally remembered her dream she had last night. It was actually going really well until the last bit. It involved Ron. Yes, even in her subconscious, Hermione still remembered every detail of him; his long freckled nose, his deep, gentle blue eyes, but most of all, his smile. That warm, friendly, understanding smile that nearly always adorned his sweet face. In her dream, she had been in the grounds of Hogwarts, wandering near the lake. Just then, Ron had appeared behind her. For once, they were completely alone. Like an evening breeze, Ron whispered into her ear…

At this memory, Hermione blushed crimson. She giggled and twirled her hair around her finger. And for the second time in about fifteen minutes, her face and heart sank. She shook her head and whispered

'_Guys like Ron don't _**go **_for girls like me. It was a stupid fantasy that was never meant to be.' She was constantly afflicted by the knowledge that if she hadn't screwed up two summers ago, she and Ron would be a reality._

Spontaneously, Hermione ran and jumped in front of the mirror. She struck a pose, then slumped to the ground.

_**Yeah. Right. Again, never going to happen.**_

When Hermione had been at Hogwarts, she had noticed something shocking. Being eighteen, you'd expect her to notice these things. But being Hermione, usually not one to notice appearances, noticed rather late.

_**I'm kind of underdeveloped. I mean, I even saw fourth years with a cuter figure than me. And my hair. It's not quite as fluffy, but still, it looks like someone has taken a ball of electricity and rubbed it in my hair like shampoo. And what's up with my height? (No pun intended.) I'm what? Five foot three? I think I can safely say, the only part of me Ron might even remotely consider attractive, are my eyes. At least they're interesting.**_

She rolled her eyes and gave a disapproving sigh. For whatever reason, although the room was less than ten feet when measured diagonally, Hermione apparated to her little dresser. Thoughtfully, she tapped her cheek. Suddenly;

'_Accio yoga pants!' Yeah. _Like she was dressed to impress today. The only person she might even possibly see today was Ginny.

They zoomed out of her bottom drawer into her outstretched arm.

'_Accio, white tank top. Accio pink sweater.'_

The top followed suit. The sweater however, was an entirely different story. It decided to be saucy and the zipper smacked her in the eye. Then it daintily landed on the bed. Hermione said a few colorful phrases, and then snatched her newly christened sweater off the bed. Too lazy to walk, silently thanking God she was a witch, with a flick of her wand, she apparated into the bathroom. She slipped out of her bed clothes and let the hot water from the shower run down her greasy feeling back It felt heavenly. Rubbing shampoo deep into her scalp, she burst into tears. She missed them so much, she could hardly stand it. She tried to rub the salty tears off her cheeks, but this just made her eyes burn.

_**What is wrong with me?**_

Turning off the shower, she stepped out and splashed her face with cold water. She wrapped her body in a small white towel. Hermione reached into the crevices of the bathroom drawer for her much hated comb. She winced at every tangle. Pinning the back of her hair up, she struggled to pull up her yoga pants, as her legs were still damp. Adding the sweater, Hermione took her hair down again, then attempted to wrestle it into a plait. Hermione checked herself out briefly in the mirror.

_**Well, slightly better **_**is **_**still better.**_

Apparating back to her bedroom, she plopped dejectedly onto her bed. What was she to do? Maybe she would ask Ginny over. Running to her living room, hardly noticing all the renovations she'd been doing, Hermione thrust open the door to her owl's cage. She affectionately called him Ron, (in private), and Sparks in public. Obviously she wouldn't call him Ron in public, everyone would think… things. He had lovely, vivid red plumage, with delicate black flecks dotted from his belly to his tail. She lovingly stroked under his chin, and he nipped her finger lovingly.

In her finest handwriting, Hermione wrote:

Dearest Ginevra Molly Weasley,

You have been cordially invited to a very exclusive party at the house of a Hermione Jean Granger. It is so exclusive, you are the only person invited. Yeah Ginny, it's Hermione. If possible, could you come over about one 'o' clock if possible? If you can't, that's allright , I understand.

Love:

Hermione G.

'_Hey sweetie, are you up to sending a letter this morning? That's a good boy. This needs to get to Ginny, okay?'_

"Ron" hooted softly, stretched his wings to full span, then was off through the open window. As soon as he left, Hermione slammed the window. When it was down, it sort of forced her to look at her watch. And that, was not a good thing. 7:04 it read. Her eyes grew to the size of golf balls.

Half an hour later, Hermione was lying on the library couch, hands over head, trying to forget that this day was supposed to be her birthday. All she could hope for was that Ginny would reply soon.

Crack. Whatwasthat? Panicking, Hermione snatched her wand and crept silently to the room she heard it. Careful to skip the steps that creaked, Hermione closed her eyes and opened the bathroom door. A mild curse, followed by a low whisper was heard in the darkness_;_

'_Shhhhhhh! Keep it down or I swear I'll…'_

Hermione flicked the light on_._

'_Happy birthday Hermione!'_

'_Ginny?'_

'_Well who did you _**really **_expect? Father Christmas?'_

'_W-'what are you doing here?' Hermione's voice squeaked to accommodate bats hearing needs. Of course she was exited, but, she was still over coming her shock. I mean, If you thought your house was being broken into by a serial killer, you'd be hysterical too._

'_I read your little note, and as your only party guest I decided to come, oh, say six hours early. But before you interrogate me any further, I have a big…'_

_The door under the bathroom sprung open, and two figures were entangled in a massive ball that rolled across the floor. They sprawled on top of each other, desperately gasping for air. One was a tall red head, the other, shorter and with a glossy head of black hair._

_Ginny sighed and rolled her eyes._

'…_surprise. Thanks guys. Perfect. You did NOT just screw this up for me.'_

'_Ron? Harry?" Her voice cracked into a million pieces. Tears of joy and gratefulness streamed down her cheeks, her nose and cheeks as pink as grapefruit. Rushing forward, Hermione helped the boys to their feet. Holding back, she stared at them, unsure of what to do next._

_Looking from Ginny, to Harry, to Ron, to Harry, to Ron, to Ron, to Ron, Hermione could hardly speak for lack of air._

_No words in this world could describe how she felt at this moment._

_'Well, I was __**going**__ to tell Ginny if she ever made us apparate into a cupboard again, I'd transfigure her into a cockroach, but with all this attention, I could get used to it!' Ron whispered to Harry._

_'D'you think she missed us?'_

_'Well, I think she's been spending a little too much time round your mum.'_

Hermione had taken it upon herself to tend to the minor wounds they received in Auror training, talk, and all the while make an enormous breakfast that would have indeed made Mrs. Weasley proud. After that, Ron, Harry, and Ginny decided to teach Hermione how to play Quidditch. _Correctly_. She was actually rather good. After several hours, four tired and sweaty individuals walked in through the back door. Harry absent mindedly looked down at his watch. _Oh Great._

_'Hermione, this has been really great, but Ron and I have to go. We start work in the morning.'_

_'Well, thank you for being here.'_ she hugged Harry, then Ron. Then, she decided to do something most would consider crazy. Taking a deep breath, she gained a small amount of confidence. Resembling the small girl she had once been, she began to speak.

_'Ron ,I-' _but by then, he had already disapparated.

Ginny, still over by the back door, came over to her.

'_Hermione, honestly, if it were any more obvious, you might as well put up a billboard.'_

Long into the night, they talked. And yes, mainly about Ron. Ginny had some great advice actually, the best being: "If he says something dumb, feel free to hex him." Ginny also told her about things he hated, liked, and many of his secret fears.

'_I'm actually pretty sure he likes you. But, he's not the best at expressing feelings. Yes, he's literally got the emotional range of a teaspoon.'_

As nice as their conversation was, Ginny was human, and eventually needed to go home to sleep. But Hermione wasn't disappointed. This had, of course, been the best day of her life.


	2. Run

Please review! I know, no one likes a pushy, crazy author, but you have no IDEA what it is like to have no one review the chapters you worked so long and hard to perfect. Or mabey you do. Hmmm...

Also, if I don't get a least three more reviews, I won't publish my next chapter.

* * *

><p>Chapter Two<p>

_Three hundred._

Rushing down the dirt road, Hermione felt hopeless and terrified. Blinking, she looked up, directly at the open skies. The small drops of rain fell directly into her pupils. By now, her hair was sopping wet and matted, and the water from her head mingled with the tears, so they were masked completely. But that didn't matter, because even if you were walking right beside her, you wouldn't be able to see her. She was completely saturated in disillusionment charms. They would never find her now.

Now, Hermione was racing time. The charms wouldn't last much longer now. If they ever found her... This wasn't like getting caught at Hogwarts. The worst you got as punishment there was point deduction. This would be much worse. Much, much worse. Heart pounding, palms sweating, Hermione frantically began searching for the right house.

_Three hundred ninety four, three hundred ninety six..._

She had only just escaped. If she had acted any later, she wouldn't be here right now.

_Four hundred! _

Hermione stopped in front of the tiny red brick house, and paused.

_Will she really do this for me?_

Deciding that it was too risky to doubt her instincts, she knocked on the old oak door she knew so well.

**"Elizabeth? Lizzy? It's me. Hermione."**

The door creaked open, and a tall, slim figure peered out the side. A curious expression overtook her face.

**"Hermione**?" she called out into the empty darkness.

With a tap of her wand, Hermione became visible. Her face was blotchy and thin, a look of sheer terror frozen over it like a thick layer of ice. She was livid and crazed, hardly even resembling the Hermione she had known. Acting quickly, asking no questions, Elizabeth Lang scooted her cousin inside, and sat her on the faded sofa. Saying nothing, she raced out of the room to find a towel.

Like the thudding of hooves at the Kentucky Derby, so was the noise of Elizabeth trying to find that god-forsaken towel. She could have sworn she had set it down right there...

Ahh! There it is! Rushing back down to the living room, she discovered Hermione, sitting in a pale coma like state. Her eyesockets seemed hollow, her eyes dead, her pale skin seemed paler than it had been. Upon further inspection, she was also murmuring incantaitions. Probably protective charms.

Elizabeth was no witch, but considered she was Hermione's only friend back when they were eleven and fourteen, it was no surprise that Hermione had taught her every spell she knew. Over the second wizarding war, Hermione had lost connection with her. Before she left for Ron's that summer, she had made a very special visit to her cousin, in case she... didn't make it back. it was really funny. No one expected the two to want to go near eachother at first. While Hermione had been bookish and smart, Elizabeth had been a C- student, had a million friends, and parents with high expectaitions. But even now, they were best friends.

Lizzy was always very protective of her young cousin, and was very distressed to see her this... troubled. Sitting down, Elizabeth wrapped her slender arm around her young cousin. After a few moments of silence, Elizabeth spoke gently.

'Hermione, I know you. You want everyone to think you're perfect, that you have no problems.I have never seen you like this and I've known you for your whole life. I'm here for you. You don't have to tell me anything, but if you want to, you're welcome to.'

'Thank you,' Hermione whispered back.


	3. Through the wreckage

Chapter Three - Through the wreckage

_It's been nearly two years. I should go over there and spend some more time with her. I could go over to Harry's, but after sharing a room with him for that long, he's probably wants nothing to do with me._

Ron was sitting on a rock near the daisies in his back yard, absentmindedly watching the ebb and flow of the tide. Normally, he found this calming, but tonight, he just wanted to be near Hermione. He didn't know why, but even being near Hermione made him feel... nice. It was sort of tingly and warm, and it made him feel sometimes like... like he wasn't good enough to stand in her presence. Like he had to make excuses to even look at her. It made him wonder if the kiss in the Hogwarts corridor had just been an impulse.

_But GOD I hope it wasn't. Okay, Okay, that is IT. I'm going back over to ask her why she snogged me._

Feeling sucessful and triumphant, Ron pulled out his wand to disapparate. Suddenly he stopped

"But if I'm going to go over there, I probably should bring some flowers. Maybe some Queen Ann's Lace. No, too many bugs in them. Roses? Maybe later, if I find out we're actually IN a relationship. Hmmmm... Forget-me-nots would send the right message right? Yeah. Yeah, Okay." Closing his eyes, Ron gingerly stepped into his garden. As it may not be known, Ron lived in a wizarding neighbourhod. As it may also not be known, wherever there are wizards, there are magical plants, most being weeds. So, for obvious reasons, Ron usually was very choosy about when he went trapesing through his garden. But Hermione... she was diffrent. Special. So even as jets of saliva soaked his pants, and even as balls of fire were pelted at his knees, Ron didn't really feel it.

Although after he found the flowers, he really had to get changed.

Flowers in hand, building up mental confidance:

Crack.

Ron disapparated.

* * *

><p>Hermione's house was built on top of a giant hill, that just happened to overlook the Burrow. The hill had hardly any grass growing on it, mainly just flowers. From a distance, it looked like a patchwork quilt: bluebells over here, daisies near the top, forget-me-nots there. It also overlooked Ron's new house. He took a step closer to the door. Meekly, he knocked.<p>

'Hermione?' He received no response. He knocked harder. Something on the other side of the door crashed. A scream. Mini earthquakes seemed to be occuring on the other side. Panicked, he dropped the flowers, shoved open the front door and looked around. Shards of broken glass littered the floor. Another bang was heard and a chunk of wall beside him exploded. Hermione came racing down the hall.

"Ron! Leave! It isn't- DUCK!" A jet of light whizzed past his left ear. Silently, he produced a shield charm.

"Go! NOW! I mean it!" she screamed.

"Not untill you do!" He yelled.

Crack.

And she was gone. Completely and utterly gone.


	4. Impatient worry

Chapter four -

"Harry! Harry! Open up!" Ron banged on the door of the house of his best friend. "Ha-"

"Ron! What the...?"

"Harry? What's- oh, uh, hi Ron." Ginny peeked out from behind Harry. Ron noticed that she, suspiciously, was only wearing a nightgown. He took a deep breath, trying to rearange his priorities.

"Okay, as much as this explains, you are not my biggest problem right now." He directed at Ginny. To Harry, he said simply, "Hermione's missing."

"Ron, she probably just went out to the store or something." He rolled his eyes.

"Oh really? Try to explain that to the guy who risked apparating into her house, saw the whole place in ruins, almost got hit by the killing curse, while Hermione was being chased by sudo death eaters? Hmmm? Now let's get to the ministry, because if I sit around a minuite longer, I may go mental. I think, after all she's done for us, she deserves immidiate attention, don't you?" Ron exploded. Why was Harry taking so long to see the point?

Stunned, all Harry was capable of was staring stupidly and blinking at Ron. Suddenly feeling the true emergency of the situation, apparated up the stairs. Minutes later, he returned, fully dressed. He drew his wand and disapparated alongside Ron.

* * *

><p>Walking down the Auror's corridor, Ron had only one worry.<em> What if no one beleives me? <em>

Swallowing all his fear, he knocked on the office door, of possibly the most unusual boss that ever lived.


	5. In the office

Chapter five-

"Come in," said a deep voice. Bracing himself for what would happen, he opened the door.

Going inside the door was like entering another building. While outside was heavilly decorated and rich with colour, inside was fairly utiliatarian, other than a few pictures of a tall blonde woman, and a young child on his wooden desk. On th front left corner was a plastic nameplate, and there in a red computer chair, sat Ron's boss expectantly waiting for him to speak.

Mr Steve Macdonald was not an evil or bad person. But at the best of times, he was very strict and took no nonsense. This was probably going to sound like nonsense. And it would probably sound like an excuse for not showing up for work, holy crap! Almost half an hour ago! Eughhh. This was not going to sound good.

"Ron?"

"Hi- um Hello Mr Macdonald,_" Okay, Here it goes. _"Mr Macdonald, this is going to sound really odd but , my best friend was just attacked by a group of people that almost looked like death eaters. She disapparated, I don't know where she's gone, and I thought before I did something stupid, I should tell the ministry what I was doing. Also, I really need to find her. As soon as possible." Coming out, it sounded like rambling unintelligible hysterics. Actually, even in Ron's head it sounded stupid.

He sat motionless in the red chair, letting the information soak into his mind. The room was plunged into a state of cold and tense. Ron closed his eyes and tried to think optimistically, but in his mind and in his heart, Ron knew he was about to be sent to the "Centaur Office". Turning around, a deep voice said something deeply shocking;

"Show me."


	6. The story

It was a cold September night. Rain pelted at the windows in a random, rhythmic pattern. It was almost soothing. Suddenly, the door creaked open. A tall slim figure stepped in through the door. She flicked the lights on.

"Sweetie. Come on 'Beth, time to wake up."

The tiny three year old sat up and rubbed her eyes.

"Monin'? Alweady?"

"No, not yet. Auntie Jeanny called. Your little cousin is being born right now."

"Can't she be bown' latow?" she covered herself back in the sheets.

Stifling a laugh, Elyssa Davies gently picked up Elizabeth, blanket and all, and carried her to the garage. She slid her into the car. Pushing the button for the garage door, Elyssa drove out into the rainy night. Usually the trip was about half an hour. Tonight , it was nearly an hour and a half.

The sliding doors screeched open. a dripping trail of water followed behind Elyssa. Briskly, she turned the corner and only stopped to ask a passing nurse where the birthing ward was, and if she knew what room Jeanny Granger was staying at.

"Floor twelve, and I think I saw a "Jen" in room 125."

"Thanks."

"Congratulations. Is it a boy or girl?"

"Excuse me?" Elyssa backed up a bit.

"The_ baby._ Is it a boy or girl." the nurse doubled over in giggles.

* * *

><p>On the elevator ride, Elyssa started crying. All her fear and worry started to flow out of her. Of course she was exited for her elder sister. But what if the baby was born sick? Or what if Jeanny died? Or what if the baby died? Or what if, God forbid, she missed the birth?<p>

Immediately she realized how silly she was being.

_It's the sleep talking. Of course none of that is going to happen._

"Mommy, down't cwy."

Finally, they reached the right floor.

"122, 123, 124, 125... wait, 125!" She rushed in and just saw the tiny, delicate form that was the future Hermione Granger.

* * *

><p>After a few minutes, curiosity overcame her. Elizabeth cautiously crawled on to the little cot. Smiling warmly, Jeanny Granger snuggled her niece right next to her.<p>

"Would you like to see your cousin?" eagerly, her blonde head bobbed up and down.

"Would you like to hold her?" More bobs followed.

Mrs Granger showed her the proper way to sit. She then gingerly handed the bundle of blankets to the fixated three year old. The second Elizabeth held her, she stared into those impossibly brown eyes. and the second she stared into those eyes, the rain stopped.

* * *

><p>Ever since then, Elizabeth had known Hermione was special. When Hermione was later brought home from the hospital, somehow she had the ability to communicate with her in english to tell her what she wanted and needed.<p>

Even today, Elizabeth was extremely important to Hermione, even more so than her own parents.

Even today, they understood each other perfectly.

Even today, they knew.

* * *

><p>Every time Hermione was sick or upset, Elizabeth had retold that story to Hermione. And always by the end, Hermione was asleep. Even tonight.<p>

**(Oh yeah. Jeanny is pronounced Jenny. The first four letters were used in Hermione's middle name as Jean.)**


	7. Usually unnecessary skills

Chapter nine

"Sorry for questioning your authority sir, but why are we disapparating in a broom cupboard?"

"Mr Weasley, if what you say is true, there is likely more people in this group out there. Some may even work in the Ministry, in this very department. We do not want them following us." Silently raising his wand, MacDonald grabbed Ron with his free hand and disapparated.

* * *

><p>The moment Ron had been dreading was soon at hand. Gingerly stepping up the front steps to her house, Ron whispered 'Aloramora'. The door slowly creaked open. He breathed heavilly, his hands clammed up, and he felt ready to be sick. Ron flicked on the lightswitch and...<p>

Nothing. Absolutely nothing. The room was completly normal. It even had that warmness that Hermione tended to bring to a room.

MacDonalds's eyes narrowed into thin slits. In a dangerously quiet tone, he whispered,

"Explain yourself Mr Weasley. Answer wisely, or you may have just lost your job."

Horror stricken, Ron rushed to the next room. It was the same there too.

_WHAT. HAPPENED_.

Leaning shakilly against the kitchen wall, he looked desparately for a clue, a peice of evidence, something out of place. His eyes fell on an old wooden table. A silver camera sat innocently in the centre. Not expecting much, he picked it up and sighed. He remembred the day Hermione had showed him how to use one.

* * *

><p>One week before Ron left for Auror training, Harry, Ginny, Hermione and Ron had been sitting in the park near Ron's new house. It was sunset. A duck and her babies waddled up to the grassy bank to rest. The grass was soft and new, the air was perfectly warm. Ginny was leaning against Harry in her usual relaxed fashon, and Harry wrapped his arm around her loosley. Normally, Ron would have been rather titchy about that, but it was too perfect for him to be bothered. Suddenly and randomly, he said<p>

"Wouldn't it be neat to capture this moment forever?"

Suddenly reminded of something her parents gave her, Hermione snatched her beaded bag from beside her. Rummaging around for a near five minutes, she triumphantly held up a little silver device.

"Aghhh! What the bloody hell is that thing?" he had jumped nearly three feet back, and wasn't stopping.

Harry and Hermione snickered.

"Honastly Ronald, do you REALLY think I'd carry a dangerous weapon around in my bag? It's a camera silly."

"Seriously? That little thing is a camera?"

"Yes. It's fairly new. You can see the pictures you've taken on this little screen in the back. Actually, this one takes video too, so the pictures will move." Hermione smiled. THE smile. The-

''

smile.

"See?" Hermione was totally oblivious to the strained look on her friend's face. "Push this button here, and it'll turn on. Flick this switch and it will flip to video mode. Now our little sunset will be captured forever." His heart fluttered when she said 'our sunset', like, like they were together.

"Here. Do you want to use it?" Gingerly, the camera was passed from Hermione's hand to Ron's hand. He panned the camera over the trees, the pond, the sunset, to reach the most beautiful thing in the whole park:

Hermione.

"How's this?" he asked cautiously.

"Perfect."

* * *

><p>Praying he would find something useful, Ron turned it on. Tiny rectangle-pictues popped up on the screen. Squinting and scrolling, he searched, rather slowly for the one picture that could save his friend.<p>

"WEASLEY! Are you quite finished yet?"

"One second please sir." _Come on, come on..._

A flash of forest green caught his eye. It looked like it could be a swatch of robe. Hermione never wore that shade. Apparently, it was not flattering. Pushing the the view button, he realized that it was a video. He took a huge leap.

"Mr MacDonald? I may have just found something." Bracing himself for another major failure, he pushed play.

But this time, he wasn't dissapointed.

This time, it was all there.

Everything.


	8. Unsuspected person number one

Chapter eight

Unsuspected person number one

The heels of her shoes clicked softly as she walked up the pavement steps. The wind was gentle, yet frosty. Wet snow flakes drifted around her. She breathed deeply. She approached the old, cobblestone building with an air of importance.

As her delicate hand brushed the side of the polished oak door, she tensed. Her nose was eagerly anticipating the warm, dull aroma that awaited her. She stepped inside.

_Ahhh._

Her whole body almost slumped to the floor. No matter how many times she went in, she never grew old of seeing the scuffed up wood tiles that they somehow made look beautiful while merged into the tired looking tan carpet.

And the shelves. The endless, endless shelves.

Even though some of the books were brand new, this library managed to make them look several years old. Which she thought was perfectly fine. She had a little saying to go along with that.

"I love well used things because they have character, they have been previously loved. New things speak of nothing, they have not yet had the chance to be loved."

As much as she'd like to have stayed there, just thinking and breathing, Samantha Watson was not here for pleasure. She was here to get her first job.

She stepped in cautiously. It was dead silent in the room. Last time that had happened to her, she had ended up in a situation that had been the worst mistake of her life. It was part of the reason she was here now.

Putting on a brave face, she scanned the premises. Apparently, Samantha was supposed to enter through a red door. Red door, red door... turning left through 'classic muggle novels,' she heard the low static of a muggle CD player. A small voice cursed.

_Shoot. Must've turned the wrong way._ Thought Sam darkly. She turned immediately right, and, of course, found the red door. the door was slightly ajar, so Sam assumed it was safe. A short plump witch with smoothed black hair sat at a cream desk with a gold nameplate. Pictures of presumed family and friends littered the walls and filing cabinets. The little blue CD player sat on a corner of the desk. As cluttered as it was in here, it felt cozy and warm, as if the rest of the library had translated into the office. Neat.

"Hello. And you're name is...?"

"Oh, uh, Samantha. Samantha Watson. Please, call me Sam."

"Ah, Sam, we've been expecting you! Please sit down." The witch… Lisa… seemed relieved.

"Now Sam, have you ever had a job before? If so, I would like to see your resume."

This was a bit of a sore spot for Sam. No matter how hard she tried, she hadn't managed to score a job yet.

"Sorry, no resume. Here are my N.E.W.T.S instead." She gingerly passed a laminated sheet of paper over the desk. She had somehow managed to score perfectly on the Defense Against the dark arts element this time round. So she didn't understand why no one had even bothered to check if H- _**Sam**_ was available for even a menial task.

"Sam? Samantha? Are you alright?" Lisa asked.

"Y-yeah. Perfect." Regaining her posture and smile, she reached for the parchment.

"If you would just sign this form, this meeting is over."

_To the Applicant,_

_The Ministry Library of Records and knowledge is not liable in case of accidental death… blah blah blah, Not responsible for lost or stolen articles… _What in the world?

"One man had a pile of books topple over him one day last summer. And a child had a rubber ball stolen from them the same week." Lisa apologized.

_I'm not going to ask._

"Okay, here's your name tag." Before Sam could even think up a 'thanks', Lisa said quickly, "I can't show you around today. Too much paperwork to handle. Juniper will have to take care of that." She pushed a button on her desk down and said wearily, "Juniper Fields to the main office, Juniper Fields."

No sooner had she lifted her polished pinky, Juni waltzed in.

"It's the new girl, right? Or is it just another test of the Emergency Broadcasting system?" The mixture of excitement and sarcasm was funny, but confusing.

"Yay!"

"Juniper Anja Fields, I swear, if I see Miss Samantha at the end of the day, and she is begging me for a resignation form, I will fire you."

"Aww, Lisa, now she thinks I'm a mass murderer straight from Azkaban. JUST what the reputation needs. By the way, no matter what she tells you, I have _not_ killed anyone." And again, before Sam could squeak a breath, Juni grabbed her by the arm and the pair was racing down the hall.


	9. Three, Two, What?

Chapter Nine

September 19

12:03 am

Crack. They appeared back in the office.

"Mr. Weasley, I will speak with the Minister straight away. This is obviously a matter of great importance. Please, go home and rest. You are excused from field duty untill this-this, whatever this is is solved." Mr MacDonald seemed greatly agitated. Clouds of worry crowded his eyes.

"Thank you sir."

And Ron disapparated again.

"What happened Ron?" Harry questioned when Ron appeared.

"Well, we don't have to worry about work for... how long untill we find Hermione?" Ron replied mock casually.

"Okay then, what are we going to do?"

"Does Ginny know yet?"

"No."

"You haven't told her?"

"No. I wanted to get your approval before she decides to kill us. I needed to know if you wanted to wait untill morning to tell her."

"Beleive me, it will be better if we don't wait to tell her. Right now, she'll only maime us instead of killing us."

Harry trudged up the stairs.

"Good luck, mate."

Ron thought of Ginny's fits of rage as sort of a backwards waltz. You could count out the process by counting backwards from three, provided you could tell if the peice of awful news had reached her yet.

There were a few soft mufflings. Three, two, one. A silence. Three, two, one... the predicted _**WHAT! **_and the ever painful sound of skin-on-skin contact that is the common result of a slap. Several thumps down the stairs. A door slamming open. Three, two, one...

"Ronald Billius Weasley!" Here we go. "She's my best friend! How could you not tell me?" Tears threatened out of the corners of her eyes. But that wouldn't come untill later.

Slap.

Ouch.

Harry came down the stairs again. A bright pink hand was left on his cheek. Although the way he looked at Ginny, you never would have guessed she'd just killed half his face. The anguish and concern on his face was enough to feel like another slap in the face.

_They ARE right for each other._ No, this wasn't a new thought for Ron, it was just the sudden, intense definateness of it that shocked him. He felt really foolish and overprotective now. _Next time they want to do something together, I'll actually encourage it._

"So, what are we going to do about Hermione, Ron?" Ginny asked, although non threateningly this time.

"We'll wait untill morning." When Harry and Ginny stared at him like he had three heads, Ron elaborated. "If we make even a tiny mistake now, we may never find her."

Satisfied for the moment, they allowed themselves to sleep.

Untill morning, they no longer had problems.

* * *

><p>Pacing around his desk, MacDonald finally sat down. He knew he shouldn't worry about it, but he couldn't help feeling guilty about it. Earlier, he had reasoned that Weasley was an experienced auror by now, and was now fully capable to handle a solo mission. But when he realized that Ron was best friends with this girl, with this <strong>CRIMINAL,<strong> he had begun to question Weasley's integrity. But on the other hand, it might just make this mission go faster, if he didn't really know where Granger was.

He did seem genuinely upset.

In the morning, he would tell the others that there were new instructions from the minister, to bring back Hermione Granger, dead or alive.


End file.
